Paper Thin Sheets
by FallingNarwhals
Summary: Klance. Autistic Keith. Sensory sensitive Lance. Paper thin sheets that crinkled every time Lance shifted positions, a bit like the tissue paper his mama used to stuff presents with, only stronger and louder than the teal blue pieces of shit. Ten thousand years in a climate controlled environment made it stiff as cardboard.


**I've been really busy this week. Please have this stressed/vent one-shot as a result.**

Keith wasn't the touchy-feely type. He had mentioned once before that he had autism (but that's okay, he fell in love with every single part of Keith and wouldn't want him anythin' less), so that may explain why he didn't go for his hand under the table and shifts away when Lance sits a little bit to close.

But in private settings, away from Pidge's narrow eyes that missed nothing or Hunk's boisterous atmosphere, he seemed to crave Lance's contact like oxygen. Small and soft kisses with chapped lips would dot Lance's neck as they laid against each other, facing the viewing window that looked outside into the expanse of space. Hands would snake together, pulses wouldn't rush like they used to because this was Keith, this was familiar, this was someone who he could predict and didn't have to get nervous about.

That didn't stop the extreme blushing or butterflies on Lance's part.

The worse parts of being away from home, away from that filled atmosphere with different personalities and perspectives and stories, were the nights. At night there was nothing but silence.

He knew sleep works in reverse for him. He can't fall asleep in quiet atmospheres with nothing to silence his thoughts except for light years of empty, dead space.

And the bedding was the worst. Paper thin sheets that crinkled every time Lance shifted positions, a bit like the tissue paper his mama used to stuff presents with, only stronger and louder than the teal blue pieces of shit. Ten thousand years in a climate controlled environment made it stiff as cardboard, but after a few months of sleeping and soaking the sheets in the washroom left them with some movement.

Hunk and Pidge had found some spare chemicals in the abandoned Altean labs and used it to make glow in the dark paint. Once Lance was in a healing pod for almost eight days, they worked hard on the paint and stenciled some stars onto the ceiling of Lance's room as a surprise. He was always talking of home, the posters in his room and the glow-in-the-dark stars he had stuck to the ceiling as a child with his older brother.

He loved them.

And it was these stars he was staring at, thinking about how silly it was that there were no windows in his room to look out of, so he made his own stars with familiar constellations, when there was a soft knock on his door.

He pulled himself to his feet, ready to do whatever crazy scheme Hunk had thought of this time. The door hissed open to reveal Keith, holding a dark blue bundle that seemed to be made out of cloth.

"Hey," he mouthed. "You know that alien planet we were just on? Farok?"

Lance blinked as the bundle was shoved into his arms. "You said the living spaces were cold so I bought a blanket from one of the locals-"

Keith paused. "Is this okay? Is this too freaky? I was going past a stall at the marketplace and remembered that the sheets we have are thin and skimpy, and I just thought of you because you're always saying you're cold and you're from Cuba and that's a really warm place and I-" Lance cut off his babbling with a soft kiss to Keith's forehead.

"You're so sweet," Lance murmured, burying his face in the dip of Keith's neck, the blanket pressed between them. "How did I end up with you?"

"I ask myself that too."

"Here," Lance took Keith's hand and guided him into his room. "It'll be warmer when there's two people in the bed, right?"

Keith flushed red, his dark eyes shining in the dim light. "Yeah. I suppose it will be."

Lance threw the blanket over the bed, and gasped. He knew it was made out of a wool-like substance, probably woven by a Farokian native, but didn't get a chance to see the beautiful designs woven in. A silver-like substance was woven in with several different shades of dark blue, making it look like an expansion of stars across a night sky. White stripes with black designs decorated the slightly frayed ends, and the blanket was so big that it didn't quite fit on the bed.

"It's beautiful, Keith!"

Keith shifted nervously, a tiny smile splayed on his lips. "It reminded me of your ceiling. The stars."

"You're so thoughtful, amado." Lance purred. And purred was the correct word for it. When Lance sprinkled his words with Spanish his voice turned smooth, like sea glass. "Thinking of the little things."

Lance pulled Keith on top of him, and the landed on the bed with a ungrateful thump and a bounce. Lance laughed, a rumbling and free sound that filled the tiny room and was sweet and pure to Leith's ears.

And with a moment's hesitation, because what do when your first boyfriend has dragged you into his room on top of a warm gift you knew he'll like and now he's laughing? But it's okay, Lance's eyes are full of warmth and humor and he wouldn't hurt anyone.

Keith laughed too. And it was beautiful.

But Lance could see Keith's shaky hands and the small bits of his lips, and could he possibly want more? Lance was wearing only a pair of sweatpants that were high on his hips and Keith was fully dressed. Lance knew Keith didn't like to wear loose clothes, didn't seem to want to change out of his tight fitting jeans or loose fitting jacket. He certainly had the chance to change his outfit, they stopped on several different planets with humanoid natives all with different fashion senses and customs. Lance himself had several soft cotton-like shirts and a pair of baggy pants with large pockets.

He supposed Keith liked keeping his "look."

Keith brought his hands to Lance's belly and delicately ran a few calloused fingers over his dark skin, before sliding a hand up his back and pulling Lance close. Lance leaned into the embrace, his body relaxing in Keith's gentle grip.

But Lance could see that spot of uncertainty in Keith's eyes, and it struck him that after all this, Keith may be hesitant to just sit here in each other's arms. He certainly was more comfortable then Keith.

"Is something the matter?" he asked softly, delicately placing a hand on Keith's him in attempt to smooth his anxiety. "You can tell me, I won't be mad."

"Well," Lance could feel Keith's hands shake nervously on his bare back. "I've never had sex before," he whispered, voice so soft and quiet that Lance could only compare it to a shy breeze on a summer day.

"Who said anything about having sex?" Lance let go of Keith's hip and scooted away a little, trying to give Keith some space. "We're just cuddling, aren't we?"

Keith's face was unreadable, dark eyes staring at an unfocused spot on Lance's chest.

"I mean, I'm not gonna push you to do anything you don't wanna do. We share this relationship, and it won't be okay if I force you to do shit, alright? Keith," Lance put a gentle hand on Keith's shoulder.

"I don't want to hurt you. Ever."

"Thank you," Keith whispered. Lance could have sworn he saw tears forming in Keith's eyes. "Th-that means more to me then you'll ever know."

Lance moved back to his old spot, inches away from Keith's body, feeling heat radiate off of him like a flame. "So, do you want to stay here, or go back to your room? And I am honestly cool with both, it's your decision."

"Stay." Keith said confidently. "This blanket is warm." he added with a smirk.

Lance placed a hand over his chest in a mock gasp. "Chosen over a blanket by my significant other. How tragic."

"It would be warmer if we actually got under it, y'know."

Lance tugged the blanket from under them in two smooth motions, and covered their bodies with the almost rough material. It was coarse and sweet-smelling on Lance's skin, and smelled like dirt and aliveness that you don't quite get in deep space.

Keith shifted closer, gently placing his hands on Lance's pectoral. Lance moved his hands to Keith's waist, pulling him closer.

"Is this okay?" Lance murmured.

"Yes. More than okay." Keith reassured. "except I'm sitting on your hand basically and I don't want to cut off the circulation."

"Tú eres mi amado," Lance moved his hand and pressed a kiss softly to his nose.

"I can't speak spanish." Keith's eyes were half lidded now, and his breathing easier. "Would you care to translate?"

"Oh, but why would I? Best to have you baffled by my seductions. Just know it's very romantic."

"Because I'm pretty sure you insulted my hair."

"I so did not! I said," Lance's voice went low, and pressed Keith closer to him so he could whisper in his ear. "You are my beloved. It's sweeter in spanish. Sounds weird in whatever language we're talkin' in."

"You fucking sap."

"I'm not the one touching my boyfriend's bare chest under a gift you got just for me."

Lance shifted his position so his feet were just resting over Keith's bare ankles. "Admittedly, the blanket-"

"Oh my god your feet are freezing!" Keith swiftly deals a quick kick under the blankets in a vain attempt to escape Lance's icy toes. Lance cackled madly and tried his hardest to keep his feet on Keith's warm skin.

 **thank you for reading! please review if you can 3**


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